you make me feel like a star
by coffeexeyes
Summary: a courferre one-shot for jenina. it's probably very bad. i'm sorry in advance.


**This is just a one-shot for Jenina, and I'm sorry that there are some mistakes :c**

**Disclaimer: well I'm obviously not Victor Hugo so no, I don't own any of these characters *sigh***

Courfeyrac remembered it as if it had happened just hours ago. In reality, it had been over a year since the event; but with him reliving every second of it over and over again, it seemed so close. He was walking home, or should we use strolling, after a meeting, lost in thoughts about Enjorlas's latest excessively moving speech, when suddenly someone toppled him. At first, Courfeyrac thought it was probably Lesgle, the lovable bald klutz of The Friends of ABC, but then an unknown curly mess got up from him and started squealing and apologizing and helping him up. No, he was alright, it was not a big deal, he was used to people(mostly Bossuet) running into and over him, the gentleman shouldn't have worried, what was their name, by the way - Courfeyrac managed to cough out at the rather panicked youth. The lad's name was Combeferre, he found out, and he was not from Paris, just visiting his sick uncle instead of his father who was busy, not that this was of any interest to the kind friend, and are you sure you're not hurt and would I maybe be able to at least buy you a drink. They ended up in a nearby cozy pub, forgetting to drink any of the wine they had ordered as they were lost in a passionate discussion. Courfeyrac was entirely fascinated by the kid; at just 18, Combeferre had one of the brightest minds he had witnessed, and learning that tomorrow he was to return to his village saddened the older man deeply; he would've loved to introduce this lovely sparkling philosopher to all of his friends. Combeferre, too, regretted having to leave, as he was instantly drawn to the way Courfeyrac spoke – and how his eyes shone as he did. They exchanged addresses, and promised each other to keep in touch in form of letters, as frequently as possible. They parted early in the morning, a bit after the earliest birds woke.

The first letter arrived a week after that night, and when Courf came home and found the street boy waiting for him with it in hand, he almost jumped in happiness. It was a shy, short and very warm letter, more of an introduction really, but with a big emphasis on "Are you sure you didn't hurt your head badly?" at which Courfeyrac rolled eyes and bit a smile or two. He quickly scribbled down a reply and told the same street boy to make sure the letter reached its recipient.

They had been sending letters back and forth for almost a year, getting more and more personal with each one, sometimes Ferre would add drawings or dried flowers which made Courfeyrac unconsciously fall more and more into him. Combeferre was one of the most honest and genuine people he knew – and surely one of the wisest, and even more surely the one he felt closest to, despite the distance. Knowing that Ferre wanted to hear from him and longed to meet him again as much as he did made Courfeyrac the happiest person on Earth; he would often get lost in daydreams or hum old love songs during meetings in the café, and at first his friends joked about it, like all friends do. They soon realized it wasn't just a casual thing for him, even sooner than he did. When that happened, when he received the last letter and felt as if actual butterflies were tearing up his stomach, when he considered the idea of being in love with Combeferre(and he considered it for forty eight awful, sleepless hours), he felt mostly relieved. He had been wondering, truly, but since he'd never grown fond of any other guy, it had seemed absurd that he would do so; yet now, knowing for sure there was _something_, something that could be so beautiful, he was glad to know it. But there was also the fear. Not fear of his friends, or his surroundings at all, no – even if Courf thought they would be ones to frown upon this event in his life, and he knew them all better than that, he wouldn't care about what they said because he would know he had the right to feel strongly for someone as wonderful as Ferre. No, it was exactly Ferre that he feared, and mostly the possibility that he didn't feel the same way towards him. His letters were friendly, surely, even overly nice and caring at times, yet he had never so much as implied that he would like to share something more than friendship with Courfeyrac – and if he didn't?

Finally, after a long and comforting conversation with Jehan and Joly about how to approach the subject(the poet had, surprisingly enough, suggested Courf wrote a poem expressing his emotions, while Joly had mostly nodded, sneezed and asked if by any chance Courf knew if Combeferre had inherited any illness from his parents, because that would definitely be a problem and honestly, Courfeyrac, what will you do), Courfeyrac decided to go straight with it. Four days after receiving the last letter from Ferre, he wrote down on a piece of paper "I'm pretty sure you make the stars light up the sky at night, because even the thought of you makes me feel as if I am a star." and gave the letter to a street boy, and waited. He had been waiting for two months when he finally got a reply.

During said two months, Courfeyrac was unbearably grumpy. At first, he thought the letter was maybe lost, after all you can never trust these random kids, but then a vile thought settled in his mind: maybe he had scared Combeferre, or repulsed him, or both, for all he knew. He cursed himself every day, and every evening he walked home as quickly as he could, in case a boy was waiting for him with a letter. But the days kept passing and there was no word from him; Courf had almost given up. He had also given up sleep(he'd only rest for an hour or two per night, and not every night at all), which, combined with his great misery, made him look extremely sick more often than not. Needless to say, his friends were worried about him, but they knew his problem was not one they could solve; what he needed was Combeferre and Combeferre only.

So one evening, Courf was in a particularly terrible mood, so awful that even Feuily couldn't bring a smile on his face with his simple niceness. In the end, Courfeyrac ended up leaving the meeting right in the middle of another one of R's drunken "moments of enlightenment". He literally ran home, completely ignoring his friends trying to call him back from the café. It had been two months and eight days. This time, he didn't hurry in hope of a letter. He just couldn't stand simply standing anymore, he felt like running all the way to Ferre's – no matter what he would say to him, or how he would react, but come on, he couldn't just keep being stuck in one place and waiting for him, he had to do something.

Or not, as he found Combeferre himself sitting on his front porch step. He seemed as if he had waited there for a while; he also seemed pretty cold, and lost in thoughts. Courf approached him slowly, quietly, partly because he didn't want to scare him but mostly because he wasn't so sure if that was really him and not just a mirage. "Courfeyrac!" Ferre squealed once he saw him; he jumped on his feet and hurried to wrap his arms around the older's body, who was so startled that it took him a few seconds to react. "You are not mad at me?!" he whispered and Ferre pulled back from the hug to give him a confused look. "But why would I be mad? I thought you had died or gotten very ill, or something, I never got a reply of my last letter… I was so scared, Courf," he sounded so sad and genuinely afraid of the possibilities that Courf just wanted to hug him for an eternity… which brought him back to Earth. Ferre was standing in front of his front door, possibly freezing. Ferre was physically there. A huge smile appeared on Courfeyrac's face, as if compensating for all his recent frowning. "I am okay now," he grinned, and seeing Ferre's face light up made him melt inside. They stood like that for a while, just staring at each other, until they both started giggling uncomfortably. "Um, would you like to come in?" Courf finally managed. "Sure," Ferre chuckled.

"Hungry?" "Naah," Ferre shook his head with a grin, then continued a bit quieter, "I am where you are, I don't want anything else." Courfeyrac giggled and clumsily hugged Combeferre, noticing some change in his height. "Hey, you've grown taller!" Ferre shrugged his shoulders. "Well, it's been a year, after all, and you've changed too... although not for the best, by the looks of it," there was the sad and worried look again. "You aren't sick, are you?" Courf just smiled. "I told you. I am okay now."

"So, why didn't you write back?" Ferre raised an eyebrow. Courfeyrac sighed. "Well, that's the thing, I did. I guess they just lost the letter, or something," he mumbled really quietly. "Really? That's a pity!" Ferre frowned, then almost immediately smiled. "Hey, what did you write about?" "I'm in love with you," Courf shrugged, staring at his shoes. Okay, he either loves me too or doesn't, so either something happens or I say I was joking. "Um… cool?" Courfeyrac looked up, not quite understanding the reaction. "What do you mean?" "I mean, it's okay," Ferre smiled. Which made the other want to groan loudly. "Of course it's okay, why would it not be okay?" he rolled his eyes. "Well, what do you want me to say?" Ferre raised an eyebrow. Courf couldn't help it and did groan this time. Does he really not understand what I'm saying, he's the cutest person I've met but honestly, why is he… so… cute?! He smiled unawarely at the thought. "What I want you to say is that you love me too, frankly," he sighed. Ferre giggled. "I walked to here, silly," he shook his head in amusement and took the two steps parting him from Courf, leaned in and gave him a tiny peck on the lips, then smiled widely. "Not to mention how I made sure every sentence in every letter begin with I," he kissed Courf playfully, arms on his shoulders, "L-O-V-E-Y-O-U," dividing each letter with another kiss, each deeper and sweeter. Courfeyrac pulled back at a point, blushing to no end. "You know, I'm pretty sure you make the stars light up the sky at night, because even the thought of you makes me feel as if I am a star. That's what I sent you." "Well, I'm glad I didn't receive it… so much better to hear it from you," Combeferre smirked before kissing him again; an exciting activity they had both somehow longed for since they had met.

**(At some point they had to stop, sadly, at least to make some basic arrangements(Ferre could stay as long as he wanted to, which was preferably a very long time, and yes, of course Courf would lend him pjs), and to move into an actual room, not stick in the doorway(not that either of them had minded it at all). Courfeyrac discovered falling asleep was so much easier when he was cuddling with the cutest boy he had ever known (both of them wearing fluffy pink jumpers))**


End file.
